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Old Time LiteratureThe Olympia and Seattle Booksellers are much surprised at the present unusual demand for the writings of Q. M. Philander Doesticks, and at the thirst for information manifested concerning his friend with the impolite prefix to the name. As there is so pronounced an interest in these classics just now, we would recommend that a few extra editions of the works of Orpheus C. Kerr be struck off. There is one affecting chapter in his war experience, that it is not unlikely was repeated in his subsequent official career, with this difference, that his later ambition was to have his own way in peace. When on the field of battle, he prepared to die a patriot's death and several times composed himself for the last, sad scene -- with reporters handy, a small national flag projecting from his pocket, and the words "Is it almost morning, Mother?" or others equally well selected, issuing from his trembling lips. But he was always disturbed by a charge from the enemy and complained bitterly of his inability to find a spot where he could die in peace. We do not quite remember, at this late date, how the career of Orpheus finally termina-ted, but our impression is that the close of the war found him decked with a Colonel's shoulder straps and with one foot planted firmly upon the pedestal of a General. The gothic steed, Pegasus, and another immortal relic, hitched to the Gov. team, and headed by a military-looking mule, helped to bring us from Damon's Pt. to this reservation.

A lady was married to a man a few days, and she went into the woods to pick some berries. And she was there in the woods as long as she can, to pick some berries. And then she came back in the house. Next morning, then again, she will go to the woods and pick some berries. And the lady was stay in the woods as long as she can, and her husband tried to sell her dress and clothes and everything away from her. And the lady came back to the house and tried to find her dress and everything, to change her things. And she get mad, because she never find her things in the house. And she dint [sic] want her husband any more. (Kay-jit'-ta had never read English law, nor had been acquainted with anyone who was reading it. -- Ed.) And the man was mad and told his wife to go to the woods to pick some berries as fast as she could. And the man tried to put his wife on his back, and tried to put her in a high tree, and the

Sarah Cheney Willoughby (1842-1913) came to Washington Territory from Lowell, Massachusetts in 1862 to teach art at the newly founded University of Washington. After leaving the university to teach in a school in Port Townsend, in 1865 she met and married Captain Charles Willoughby, who worked at the time for the Coast Survey. Willoughby became an Indian Agent at the Neah Bay reservation in 1877, and was moved to Quinault in 1883, where he and Sarah lived (along with their younger children) until Charles's death in 1888. While on the reservation, Sarah took special interest in the culture of the local tribes, and both drew sketches of native scenes and recorded the legends and myths she was told.

Old Time LiteratureThe Olympia and Seattle Booksellers are much surprised at the present unusual demand for the writings of Q. M. Philander Doesticks, and at the thirst for information manifested concerning his friend with the impolite prefix to the name. As there is so pronounced an interest in these classics just now, we would recommend that a few extra editions of the works of Orpheus C. Kerr be struck off. There is one affecting chapter in his war experience, that it is not unlikely was repeated in his subsequent official career, with this difference, that his later ambition was to have his own way in peace. When on the field of battle, he prepared to die a patriot's death and several times composed himself for the last, sad scene -- with reporters handy, a small national flag projecting from his pocket, and the words "Is it almost morning, Mother?" or others equally well selected, issuing from his trembling lips. But he was always disturbed by a charge from the enemy and complained bitterly of his inability to find a spot where he could die in peace. We do not quite remember, at this late date, how the career of Orpheus finally termina-ted, but our impression is that the close of the war found him decked with a Colonel's shoulder straps and with one foot planted firmly upon the pedestal of a General. The gothic steed, Pegasus, and another immortal relic, hitched to the Gov. team, and headed by a military-looking mule, helped to bring us from Damon's Pt. to this reservation.

A lady was married to a man a few days, and she went into the woods to pick some berries. And she was there in the woods as long as she can, to pick some berries. And then she came back in the house. Next morning, then again, she will go to the woods and pick some berries. And the lady was stay in the woods as long as she can, and her husband tried to sell her dress and clothes and everything away from her. And the lady came back to the house and tried to find her dress and everything, to change her things. And she get mad, because she never find her things in the house. And she dint [sic] want her husband any more. (Kay-jit'-ta had never read English law, nor had been acquainted with anyone who was reading it. -- Ed.) And the man was mad and told his wife to go to the woods to pick some berries as fast as she could. And the man tried to put his wife on his back, and tried to put her in a high tree, and the